


Even Dragons Have Their Endings

by LadyCorvidae



Series: Here There Be Dragons [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dragon!Lock, F/M, Magic (a little bit), Tibetan monks, references to mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCorvidae/pseuds/LadyCorvidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the answer to a question is sought, more questions are asked, and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Dragons Have Their Endings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doctor_WTF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_WTF/gifts).



It had all began the day after he had shown his true self to his Molly. She had asked him a question that he had hardly dared to dream that she’d ask.

“Is there a way? To make someone like you- a dragon. Just... hypothetically speaking,” she asked, blushing a shy, pale shade of pink which made him want to crush her to him and hold her close. 

“I honestly don’t know,” he answered with a sigh. “I’ve heard tell of it happening, but only once. And it... didn’t end well. Even me changing my form from draconic to human was a stretch, and that also had been done before and hadn’t ended well. It went so badly that there’s still record of it to this day.” She raised her eyebrows. 

“Really? There’s really a record of it? What is it?” she asked, eyes alight with the scholarly curiosity that was one of the many reasons why he had come to love her. 

“I, once again, can’t pronounce it for you in human form, but for you, it’s called Beowulf,” he said with a smirk. Her eyes widened so much that he was almost afraid that they’d drop from their sockets, even though he knew it was physically impossible for that to happen. They talked avidly for a while about that, with him telling her about the background and how it had been skewed over time with the telling and re-telling of it. 

“So is that really what happened? And... if you find a way for it to go the other way ‘round... could you... could you tell me?” she asked quietly. Sherlock felt a fire stir in his chest, and it was almost like he was changing. He held her close and kissed the top of her head- his Molly, the one he had waited and watched for. 

“I promise,” he murmured. He searched for the answer to the question for five years. With the false starts, dead ends and misleading trails, it felt more like five hundred. But he wanted this. He wanted this so very badly that he could taste it on the air. He had very nearly given up all hope. Until he went to a monastery, high in the mountains of Tibet. As soon as he set foot in the temple, the abbot was called. When the man (a squat fellow named Chodak) saw him, he immediately fell to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor in a gesture of utmost respect. 

“Venerable One, it has been many, many ages since we have seen or even heard the merest whisper of one of your kind. Indeed, we have long since thought that all dragons had either died or been killed,” he said, his English only slightly accented. Sherlock was absolutely shocked. 

“How-?” he asked. Chodak stood and smiled a little as he dusted the saffron of his robes. 

“Come. We shall have tea, and I will explain,” he said. After drinking cup after cup of hot buttered tea (that he forced himself to choke down in the effort to at least appear polite), Sherlock found out that this monastery was one devoted to seeing the truth of the world. They had, all of them, undergone years of intense training- meditation, special sutras and chants, ceremonies with layers of sigils and spells so thick that it dizzied the eye and twisted the mind to even think of them. When it was complete, they could see through any and all falsehoods; be it spoken, written, or even biological. They could see him, for how he truly was. After they got that down, Sherlock told Chodak what he was there for. 

“I’ve heard a rumor that there is... a book here. A scroll, really- detailing how to change a human into one of my kind,” he said, choosing his words very carefully. Chodak said nothing, but took another sip of his hot tea. He stared thoughtfully at Sherlock, dark eyes piercing him. “I’ve found her- the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with, and she’s agreed to this. If... if she can’t spend it with me, I don’t think I could go on. I can’t watch her wither and die again. I can’t,” he said quietly, desperately, words stumbling and tripping over themselves. 

“Aaaah,” said Chodak softly. “I see. I see, Sherlock. Come. Walk with me.” Chodak led Sherlock down, down, down- to the belly of the monastery. It was as dry as a bone and as dark as the end of all things. 

“Here is where we keep all of our most sacred texts,” the abbot said to the dragon. “The one you seek is in the very back. Be careful- it is ancient, even by your reckoning, and it might crumble.” With that, he turned and walked off. Sherlock very nearly tore into the room and read the scroll as fast and as carefully as he could. It was in a tongue that he had nearly forgotten, and it took nearly three days for him to read it, barely taking food or water and not sleeping. Finally, haggard and blinking in the almost-blinding light of the weak sun that came through the windows, he emerged. He was exhausted, but triumphant. He knew how to do it. It would take some time, but his Molly could be with him. He was ready to go back home. As he prepared to leave in the dead of night, gathering his energy to change and begin the long flight back to England, Chodak surprised him. 

“Sherlock,” he said softly. “Be absolutely certain that this is what you both want. Forever is a long, long time- even for one as old as you.” 

“I will,” he said, voice rumbling in his chest. Chodak nodded and Sherlock began his shift. When he was finished, the abbot regarded him, eyes wide with awe. He gave him blessings for his safe travels, for swift flight and quick recovery, then turned to leave. But before he took off, Sherlock saw Chodak half-turn back to him. 

“If this does work out,” he said over his shoulder, “be sure to come to visit with her. I would very much like to meet the one that you’ve made your heart.” Sherlock inclined his head and leapt into the sky. He circled thrice above the monastery, and then he was gone. He made it back to his manor house two days later, just as dawn was starting to break. He could feel her, sleeping in the master bedroom- the bed that they had shared- breathing soft and even. Exhausted, he barely gathered enough energy to change and staggered to her, collapsing with relief on the bed. She woke at once, startled, but then curled around him. “Sleep, my love. Rest. I’m here- I’ve got you,” she murmured, and he was dead to the world. When he next woke, two more days had passed. Molly was in the kitchen and he stumbled there, then ate enough to feed at least fifteen people (he felt). Once he was feeling remotely sentient, she asked him, eyes bright but cautious, already half-resigned to the answer that he had brought back so many times before. 

“Did you find anything?” The joy, surprise, and slight fear when he answered ‘yes’ was palpable. “So... how does it work? Does it need anything special? Will it hurt?” 

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you, no, and yes, it will,” he answered. He saw her swallow hard, but square her shoulders, determined. 

“Whatever it needs, I’ll do it,” she said firmly. All of a sudden, a clawing, screaming panic hit him in the chest. 

“But... are you sure? Are you sure that you want to be a freak- a monster- for the rest of time? This isn’t temporary, Molly. This is forever. Are you absolutely certain that you want to spend that long with someone like me?” he asked her. He would have asked more, but the sharp crack of her hand against his cheek shocked him into silence. 

“You listen to me, Sherlock Holmes, and you listen close,” she said, steel and iron and bedrock in her voice, brooking no argument. “I love you. With every fibre in my being, I love you. I will gladly spend the rest of time with you, because you are all that I ever wanted. You are not a freak, nor a monster. You are brilliant. You are beautiful. And this is my choice. I choose you. Always you,” she finished softly, cupping his face in her hands. He felt emotion choke his throat and he gathered her fiercely into his arms, crushing her close to his chest. 

“I love you,” he whispered, the confession dragged out of him and finally free. “I love you- I love you.” She swallowed hard and he could feel tears wet his shirt. 

“Good,” she murmured. “Good.” Another five years passed before everything was ready. Everything had been gathered and the ritual would take place where she first saw him- the clearing in the woods, not far from where they stayed. 

“Do I have to be naked?” she asked, shivering as the wind caressed her bare skin. 

“Yes, because your clothing would just burn off. Now shut up- I’m reading,” he said as he pored over the texts and incantations one last time, even though he had quintuple-checked it. One wrong word, and everything would fail. More than likely, they would both die. Satisfied, everything as ready as they could ever make it, he began. He spoke as he shifted, going through the pain as his vocal cords stretched and grew as he did. He could feel the power gathering, feel it in his very core. The words seemed to speak themselves as the ritual continued, and at last was the part that he was so afraid of. Taking a breath, firing the furnace in his chest and belly, he belched liquid flame over his Molly, his heart. He heard her cry out as the fire engulfed her, and he wanted to stop, but to do so now meant total destruction. Her cry changed, shifting like his voice had, until it ended with an animal shriek. Bursting from the fire was another dragon, like him. Except instead of black scales, hers were a deep ash grey, turning to a burnished gold at her throat and belly. It had worked. It had worked and oh, she was magnificent. She was so beautiful that his breath caught. 

“Molly,” he rumbled. “Molly... it worked.” She looked at herself, her new golden eyes widening in shock, slit pupils dilating. She spread her wings and flapped, a great gust of wind bending the trees. 

“It... it really did!” she said, her first words in her new voice hoarse from the pain of the change. He slowly coached her on how to turn back, and soon they were both clad in skin and hair instead of scale and hide. She collapsed and he swiftly scooped her up, cradling her to his chest. 

“You did it. We did it!” she said, sweat pouring off her as she trembled with exhaustion, grinning ear to ear. 

“Yes, my only, my heart- we did,” he said, smiling in return, a laugh caught in his throat. “And when we have practiced the shift- when I have taught you how to fly- we need to make a trip to Tibet. There’s someone we need to thank.” 

“We can most certainly do that,” she said softly, nuzzling into him. “But for now... I’d like to go back to the house. I want to make a fire.” Kissing her temple gently, he carried her all the way back so she could do just that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the end of the 'Here There Be Dragons' series! I hope you've enjoyed. Please leave a comment- this is unbeta'd, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.


End file.
